So, I scored a free ticket to the U2 concert tonight (thanks, B!) and while I'm not the biggest U2 fan (I really like their older material better), they are supposed to be legendary as a live concert and I'm hoping it lives up. Also, I am really psyched to see Florence + The Machine.
Rock on.
Showing posts with label concerts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label concerts. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Monday, November 8, 2010
This Time, Baby, I'll Be Bulletproof
Oh, La Roux. You are so amazingly androgynous and fantastic. I love your music. I love your shiny coat. I love your pouf. Your pouf tells Snookie to go home, eat an entire package of Double-Stuf Oreos and cry herself to sleep for being the epitome of lame. Your pouf is like one giant, raging, exclamatory finger telling the world precisely what it can do with itself should it not immediately recognize and bow down to your greatness. Your humility and polite British accent then make us suspect that, deep down, you truly enjoy a cup of tea and a good crossword puzzle. Possibly you have a cat. Most likely you call your grandmother on a regular basis, just to catch up.
And then there's Far East Movement.
Highly energetic, highly engaging, highly entertaining and....100% odd. Oh well, it works for them.
And then there's Far East Movement.
Highly energetic, highly engaging, highly entertaining and....100% odd. Oh well, it works for them.
Friday, November 5, 2010
WEEKEND!
The first weekend in.................................... (insert ? here).........that I don't have plans, and already I have maxed out on plans.
Girls' Night Out tonight (which is slightly redundant, given that pretty much every weekend is Girls' Night Out, especially when Catalano's fiance is out of town), and then tomorrow I am locking myself up somewhere to churn out some writing. I have been terrible about this- and Stupid took me to task for it. I should have the next great American novel manuscript to her by Monday. I kid. I might draft a short story, or at the very least sit and stare at the screen for six hours like any normal tortured writer. And attempting to start The Artist's Way. It's completely intimidating (Write? For an HOUR? A DAY? EVERYDAY?) but I have no more excuses not to be flexing any creative muscle now that the marathon relay is well behind me.
However- if I do manage to make some creative headway, I am to be rewarded by going to see Due Date on Saturday night with Catalano.
Random note: Lee and I had an extensive conversation last weekend about the discouraging growth of one's thighs when training. You lose all this weight, it all becomes muscle, and then in the blink of an eye- you've got thighs like Lance Armstrong or, in my case- one of my biggest fears-a Williams sister. So you're uber healthy and can run crazy mileage and your resting heart rate is at a delightful low, but you've got killer thighs and your pants don't fit properly anymore. The non-fitting of pants ranks up there with Things That Can Utterly Ruin Your Day. Don't believe me? Dig out a pair of pants a size or two too small and see if you don't border on apoplectic throughout the day.
I digress.
Sunday- La Roux at Ram's Head with Nickle. I am so excited I can hardly contain myself, but slightly disparaged at the lack of wearable 80's threads in my closet.
Busy, happy little life of mine.
Girls' Night Out tonight (which is slightly redundant, given that pretty much every weekend is Girls' Night Out, especially when Catalano's fiance is out of town), and then tomorrow I am locking myself up somewhere to churn out some writing. I have been terrible about this- and Stupid took me to task for it. I should have the next great American novel manuscript to her by Monday. I kid. I might draft a short story, or at the very least sit and stare at the screen for six hours like any normal tortured writer. And attempting to start The Artist's Way. It's completely intimidating (Write? For an HOUR? A DAY? EVERYDAY?) but I have no more excuses not to be flexing any creative muscle now that the marathon relay is well behind me.
However- if I do manage to make some creative headway, I am to be rewarded by going to see Due Date on Saturday night with Catalano.
Random note: Lee and I had an extensive conversation last weekend about the discouraging growth of one's thighs when training. You lose all this weight, it all becomes muscle, and then in the blink of an eye- you've got thighs like Lance Armstrong or, in my case- one of my biggest fears-a Williams sister. So you're uber healthy and can run crazy mileage and your resting heart rate is at a delightful low, but you've got killer thighs and your pants don't fit properly anymore. The non-fitting of pants ranks up there with Things That Can Utterly Ruin Your Day. Don't believe me? Dig out a pair of pants a size or two too small and see if you don't border on apoplectic throughout the day.
I digress.
Sunday- La Roux at Ram's Head with Nickle. I am so excited I can hardly contain myself, but slightly disparaged at the lack of wearable 80's threads in my closet.
Busy, happy little life of mine.
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